Purity: The Story of Salixa
by Snowstripe the Fierce
Summary: What if the Sacred Orb had survived? How will the entire story of the Guardians of Ga'Hoole be affected? Read the story of Salixa, daughter of Kludd, and how she forever changes the world of Ga'Hoole. Please read and review; tell me what you think.
1. Prologue

In the night sky, two figures, one large and one small, evidently in a horrified hurry, darted through the air. Trailing behind and gaining fast were about twenty other figures. The two figures being chased were flying straight for a forest fire. There truly was no other option. It was either that or turn back into the maddened talons of their pursuers.

Primrose and Eglantine, two Guardians of the Great Ga'Hoole tree, were on the verge of going yeep. Not daring to look back, for fear of seeing the great numbers of their angered pursuers. Eglantine, the larger of the two, a Barn Owl, was holding a egg in her talons. This egg was the Scared Orb, spawn of her evil brother Kludd and his sadistic mate Nyra. The egg was so named that for it's unnatural almost spherical shape. It looked more like a ball than an egg. Currently, Nyra and her death squadron, The Nyra Annihilators, were gaining speed and the young owls were losing distance.

"Get them! I'll tear your gizzard out if you don't!" she screeched at a Grass Owl. He complied, fearing the wrath of not only his current squad leader, but also of The High Tyto himself. Nyra's eyes were bright, and she only thought one thing: "Get! That! Egg!"

Seeing a cloud of smoke, Primrose, the Pygmy Owl, spoke to her friend. Egalantine, if we can get into that and hide somewhere in a place in it, they'll never find us!" she spoke over the roaring flames and screeching enemy.

Her Barn Owl companion called back. "NO! Are you yoicks?! If and when the smoke clears, which it eventually will, they'll find us, and they'll probably take out our eyes!"

Eglantine looked around. "We can dive straight into the fire."

"What?! And you say _I'm_ the one who's yoicks?!"

No, we won't really do it! If Nyra sees us do it, she'll go yeep and faint, just like she did when we took the egg. Her mind and gizzard are so fragile now that her precious Orb is gone, that if we even _look_ like we're gonna do a suicide move like that, she'll just go yeep. Then her cohorts will be too busy worrying about her to even think about following us." The female Barn Owl then swooped down toward the flames, her small friend following her.

The plan worked. Nyra immediately fell to earth, her thick-headed followers swooping down as if to catch her. They didn't even notice the pair they were chasing a matter of moments ago soar back up into the sky using a thermal updraft.

"It worked!" Primrose exclaimed. However, Eglantine was looking at the egg. It appeared to be quivering. "It looks like it's going to hatch." the Barn Owl said dryly.

"That's impossible! It's far too early! No egg hatched that soon!" the Pygmy Owl stuttered. But she knew that her friend had to be right. No egg ever made movements like that unless it was going to hatch.

"Of course, an egg shaped almost like a sphere may not hatch like one that is egg-shaped."

"We can't make it to the Tree in time. It'll hatch as we fly." Primrose said urgently.

"It won't hatch in the Tree. It'll have to hatch here."

"But what about Nyra? We could defend it as it hatches, but they'll smash right through us."

"I don't know. We'll just have to fight with as much might as we have." Just then, a group of owl-like figures ascended in the distance. They knew it was the Pure Ones.

"That willow tree in the distance. I see a hollow in there. We'll have it hatch in there. We could also use the branches for fire-branches.

"Let's go."

As they lighted down and were about to go in, they noticed it was occupied. A handsome male Short-Eared Owl, with reddish-brown wings and black stripes, was inside.

"Please, it's going to hatch, and we're being followed by the.." Eglantine didn't even get to finish before the stranger silently made a hatching nest, and took a scimitar off a shelf.

"I'll deal with any that come near the hollow. You two just rest." And with that, he was off.

Setting the egg down, the pair faced the nest, watching as the egg quivered and shook almost violently. Finally, a shard of egg broke off. Then a little false beak, or egg-tooth poked out of the hole and pried a good portion of egg off itself. It then picked piece by piece of shell off itself. The two then saw it's eyes. Very beautiful, jet-black ones. A lot like her mother Nyra's.

Eglantine spoke. "It's a girl! See, she focuses on me!" she then approached the blob-like mass, and nuzzled it with her head, and folded the owlet in her wings and down feathers for warmth.

"Primrothe an' Eggleteeth." the chick spoke. Her words had a "th" sound to them because her eggtooth had not come off yet.

"Mommy!" the owlet then snuggled up close to Eglantine, whose eyes watered with joy, and she wiped a tear from her cheek with a talon. Primrose was crying.

"No, dearest, just call me Auntie Eglantine." the female Barn Owl said gently.

"Auntie Eggleteeth." the owlet replied.

"Yes, Auntie Eggleteeth." she said and smiled.

"What should we name her?" Primrose asked, wiping her eyes on a wing.

"I don't know."

Just then, the male Short-Eared Owl lighted down in the hollow. "How about Salixa, for an ancient Krakish word meaning "willow"? After all, she did hatch in here." his scimitar was held over his shoulders.

"What about the Pure Ones?" Eglantine asked, seeing the owlet asleep.

"The only one who really did pose a threat to me was that crazy female. All the others I disarmed and got rid of easily. The name's Micah, by the way. Who's the father?" he asked.

"Thank you, Micah, for helping us this night. We may not have made it without you. And my brother is the father." Eglantine answered

Micah looked at her confused. "I'm not the mother, silly!"

"That crazy female was the mother, and you know who she is. My brother is the High Tyto. We're Guardians, they're Pure ones, you see. they wanted this owlet to grow up to be evil, and we want her to be good. That's why we stole her." Primrose explained.

"I see. Besides, you look both far too young to be having owlets anyway. This caused both the females to blush."

Tomorrow evening, you can carry her in a basket of mine to the Tree. I'll guide you all the way there, in case of bad weather or if the Pure Ones get any ideas."

"Th-th-thank you." Eglantine gasped. She was exhausted. She just needed to rest. She saw the sun rising, red, as if it was dipped in blood.

"Salixa. I like that name. Salixa, welcome to the world. Glaux bless." she whispered to the sleeping babe, and fell asleep.


	2. Ch One: An Anomaly of an Owlet

In the Great Ga'Hoole Tree, safe from any dangers, evils, or dark powers, a group of owlets played. Among them, were two Long-eared Owls, one Snowy, one Eagle, one Grass, two Barn Owls, and one Eastern Screech. They were playing a game of "Snatch that Mouse". Though they could barely fly themselves, they giggled, screeched, and squealed as they chased after the smallest of the group, the Eastern Screech. Salixa, one of the two Barn Owls, a very pale one named Salixa, accidentally tripped over the fallen Snowy, pushing his face into the ground, as she closed in on her target. Rufus, the eastern Screech, shrieked as she got closer and closer. Eventually, he tripped on a talon and Salixa practically leaped over him, landing tailfeathers first, onto the hollow floor. Marcella, the nestmaid snake of the hollow, darted towards them.

"Oh, you young'uns, stop roughhousing in here this instant! I thought I told you "Snatch that Mouse" was against the rules!" she shook her pink-scaled head in a highly annoyed manner, then sighed.

"B-but, Marcella, Auntie Eglantine said that she was allowed to when she came here!" Salixa stuttered.

"Well, she's a Guardian now, isn't she? It's been a while since she was an owlet! Why don't you go to the Library or something?" the nestmaid was exasperated. "And to think you're going to be chaw-tapped soon! You've barely grown out of owlet-like behavior! Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you still kept owlipoppen!"

Rufus spoke up. "My mummy says she'll make me a new owlipoppen three nights from now. She just has to get the cloth from Trader Mags."

Marcella hissed, perhaps a tad too harshly. "That is exactly my point! In about a moon, you'll all start getting chaw-tapped, and you can't take your owlipoppen with you through colliering, or blacksmithing, or tracking, or anything! Just remember, you won't be owlets forever. You could help all of us by at least starting to grow up a bit now."

Salixa looked down at the hollow floor. "Sorry, Marcella, I first suggested we play Snatch that Mouse."

Marcella then seemed to calm down. "It's alright, young'uns. I just don't want you to get hurt. Last time anyone played Snatch that Mouse, six owlets got hurt."

Rufus, who a moment before had been laying sprawled over the hollow floor, jumped up. "Oh! I know! Let's play 'Haggy Waggy'!"

Haggy Waggy was a running, fleeing, and pursuing game in which one owlet would be declared Haggy, and the others Waggy. The Haggy would attempt to tag the Waggies, and they would be out until all the others would be tagged as well. The game would give a chance to the smaller owls like Burrowing Owls, Pygmies, Elf Owls, and Saw-Whets, because they were usually faster due to less leg feathers, so they dominated the game.

"That's a great idea, Rufus!" proclaimed the Grass Owl Leo.

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As the owlets started playing, Marcella left the hollow, making her way up to the Snake's Social Branches. There, a friend of hers, Audrey, appeared to be gossiping with a snake named Asmina, another friend named Mrs. Plithiver, and an assortment of other snakes she did not know very well.

"Good evening, Horace! How's Soren doing?" he asked her companion.

"Oh, he's quite alright, he's just gone off to the Library. And as for Gylfie -"

"Did you hear? Did you hear?!" Audrey interrupted.

"Hear what?"

"That Gylfie and Soren have fallen for each other!" she blurted out. Although Audrey's claim may have had something to back it, the Tree only identified the two as the best of friends. Audrey was also known as the biggest gossiper in the Tree, so not many took her very seriously, save a few _yonder-dreamers_.

"Now, where in the name of Hordox did you hear that?!" Marcella hissed at Audrey, who flinched. Horace continued for her. "Everyone knows that Gylfie and Soren are just close friends, no more!"

"They used to say the same thing about you and Alex."

Horace just stared at her. "How did you know that?"

"You had a mate, Horace?" Marcella was shocked.

"I did. But he died a long time ago. Audrey, where did you hear about that?"

"At the Yonder Festival. I told a snake about you, and they said that they remembered you were once mates with a male named Alexander."

Mrs. Plithiver was surprised. "What were you doing at the Yonder Festival?! That's for young females and males! Not older ones like us."

Marcella herself had never gone to a harvest festival. She felt it unnecessary for a snake who's meant to serve to be meeting males.

"Oh, I wasn't participating, of course, but I was guiding my niece Jasmine around the place." Audrey awkwardly replied.

"Audrey, you liar! Everyone knows you were an only egg!" Horace snarled.

"Well, fine. I was trying to hide my age by attending."

"That sounds more like the truth." Marcella nodded to her friend.

"On another scale, the owlets are going to be starting to get chaw-tapped very soon." Horace added.

Marcella turned to her. "Ah, yes, I just spoke to them about that. I told them they should be acting their age. I caught them playing Snatch that Mouse, for Hordox sake!"

"I'm glad you disciplined them when you did. Did you discover the culprit? It was Ivan, wasn't it? He likes being mischievous." Horace replied.

"It was Salixa, actually. She admitted immediately."

"Well, that's strange. But after all, Salixa always has been an anomaly. Nothing us nestmaids can't handle, of course."

"Indeed." Marcella looked off to the sun, which was slowly peeking it's head over the horizon.


	3. Ch Two: A Plan, Crafty and Devious

"Stupid! I was stupid and careless!"

"Now, now, General Mam, I am quite sure that..."

"Don't 'now now' me, Ash! First it was the Sacred Orb, now this!"

"It was not your fault, it was Soren who had..."

"I should have been with him, but I wasn't, and now, with this news of a new egg, Kludd won't be there to be a perfect father! What if it's not like Kludd or I at all, what if it's like that horrid Eglantine and Soren?!"

"Minds, especially young ones, can be molded. If the new egg isn't naturally like you or Kludd, then we can make him or her that way." the Grass Owl soothed.

Since the loss of the Sacred Orb, Nyra was desperate to have a new egg, seeing as though retrieval of it was impossible. Kludd was not expecting his once slow-and-steady mate to become desperate for an egg, but he didn't mind. He did, after all, want a successor, so he obliged. Sadly, in the Battle of the Burning, Kludd had been struck down by an ice scimitar slash to the back, snapping his spine, and causing him to, to the horror of the Pure Ones and the cries of victory to the Guardians, fall to his death.

Nyra sniffed. "I didn't even get to see him die, to tell him how much I loved him..." Tears welled up at her eyes, but as they fell, so did her sadness. Her eyes turned to slits, and her voice grew harsh.

"But I'll avenge him, someday, if it's the last thing I do! They'll pay for what they did to the High Tyto! No single Guardian will grow old to tell the tale! I'll gouge out their eyes, and tongue, clip their wings and push them into a fire!"

Stryker back away. Nyra often spoke of such brutal punishments she wanted to give to the Guardians. It seemed to soothe her fragile mind and gizzard.

"But until then, General Mam, I suggest we initiate an all-out attack on Ambala. We could capture them all, and kill them one by one. We could send one surviving owl to tell the Guardians that if they do not deliver Soren and his friends to us, we will slaughter all the owls." Ash suggested.

Nyra turned to her lieutenant. "That plan is good, but I can improve it. We'll capture the owlets. The Guardians can't bear to have young and innocent on the line, so of course they'll deliver our enemy. Ash, gather Stryker, Wortmore, Uglamore, Lieutenant Rapha, and Fallumere. Bring them to me. We'll organize this attack just as Kludd would have wanted. Swift, silent, and deadly. Go, now!"

With that, the Lieutenant took flight.


	4. Ch Three: A Gadfeather's Grief

Micah lighted down, back in his willow hollow, sighing. He remembered his daughter Esther, and how she had died trying to defend another owl family's eggs from the St. Aggie's owls. He remembered one of them, a Grass Owl, with a copper helm, who had slashed at her back, causing her to plummet to the ground. If only, if only, he had forgotten his grief and had avenged her. Then, he could have lived the last moons of his life in relative peace. But he hadn't. Instead, he just watched as they flew off snickering to one another about their achievement.

He grimaced as another wave of pain from his chest made its way through him. He had gotten these pains the morning that Esther had died. He limped over towards a shelf with a jar of purple juice. He swiped it off the shelf, screwing off the lid and, taking a spoon from that same shelf, he scooped it up an swallowed it. It was cold and made his stomach acids rise up to his throat. He shivered and groaned. Limping to his nest, he grabbed extra moss from next to it and shut his eyes tightly, in a vain attempt to sleep.

"Glaux, of all the times you could have made it light out..." he muttered under his breath. Micah got up and walked back to the shelf where a small box lay. He opened it, revealing pearl necklaces, colored feathers from a variety of birds, featherpaints, and headdresses.

 _To think there were times when I used to fly and sing for a living._ he thought to himself. _Look at me. It's been seventeen moons since Esther died, and I'm still in the blinkin' gollymopes! Glaux, you could've had me die there with her. You could've spared me of this lonely Hagsmire of a life that I now live._

He turned to a golden plate, with a glorious image of the owl god engraved expertly into it. It had letters of Third Age Krakish, one of the earliest predecessors to Modern Krakish, curving around the top of the plaque. It read: " _Tuoi fugen aeroch til vinc_ " which translated to "He will teach to overcome." On the bottom it read: " _Hulde vest._ ", which translated to "Stay strong."

This was an old N'ryhghar proverb, made by N'roth in the days of King H'rathmore. Many families of owls, especially during the War of the Ice Claws, spoke this after a battle had taken a loved one's life, or they were in a time of great strife and turmoil.

Micah sighed in exhaustion, looking up at the top of his hollow. Going back into his nest, Micah settled in and spoke the words softly to himself, slowly lulling himself from the waking world into the land of dreams.

"Tuoi fugen aeroch til vinc. Hulde vest. Tuoi fugen aeroch til vinc. Hulde vest."

* * *

 **Sorry 'bout the short chapter, folks. It's just I myself am busy with school, and I can only update on weekends. So here I am, on Sunday night, delivering a fresh batch of fic that no one's gonna eat until the next day, when they've gone cold.**

 **Anyway, enjoy, share, review, and remember, no flames. ;)**


	5. Ch Four: A Rather Forced Absence

In the Northern Kingdoms, a white, brown, and gold figure lighted down on an island. He was approached by a brown figure, with white speckles.

"Good afternoon, Brother Percival. Did you enjoy your trip? You must have been in a hurry, seeing as though you didn't even say goodbye to anyone, or even get permission from the Brother Superior." the brown one said calmly.

"Oh, spare me the pleasantries, Reynald. You, of all owls, should have known what I left for."

"Indeed I did, but that does not excuse you of leaving to go on one of your escapades without permission!"

"But if you truly did know, Reynald, then why didn't you tell him? I thought we weren't supposed to withhold information from the Brother Superior."

"This is the fourth time just this moon, Brother. The Council is not pleased of your actions. You are to meet with the Brother Superior. _Alone_. May Glaux have mercy on your gizzard." Reynald sneered.

Percival rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, they won't do anything worse than make me go pellet-burning."

"Oh, I imagine they'll be doing much worse than that. This has been going on for too long, Brother. Follow me." The Spotted Owl lifted off, with Percival following him.

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Percival entered the hollow, head down in the usual humility bow, often used by Glauxian Brothers to show complete respect to a superior.

The Brother Superior, formerly called Amadeus, turned. He held a nut cup of birchsap tea, a favorite among Glauxian Brothers. He nodded at a stool. "Please, sit."

Percival cautiously sat on the stool, as if it was a hag going to eat him if he sat upon it.

"Do you like it?" the Brother Superior asked.

"I guess so."

"Good. It was one of two stools that was bought by my great-uncle from a magpie trader. My mother said they used to belong to an Other named Right, as the name was written in some unintelligible runes that is apparently pronounced Right." Amadeus nodded, churring softly.

As Percival knew that this conversation only prolonged the inevitable, he changed the subject. "I suppose you brought me here to inquire me of my recurring absences." he said, swallowing hard.

The Barn Owl turned, churred again, but ceased and turned serious. "You do know that it is hard for me, every time you leave."

Percival was confused. 'How so, Father?"

"When you return, the Brotherly Council wants me to strip you of your title, rank, and even history with the Order. They tell me that your actions have brought you farther and farther away from Father Glaux, which is against the reason for becoming a Glauxian Brother. And, every time, I stand up for you. I tell them that such an action is unjustified, as there have been much worse things than leaving without permission. But this time, they've told me that if I do not do something about you, they can counter my decree, possibly deem me unfit to be Brother Superior, and get rid of you anyhow."

Percival gulped again. "So you're going to have me snogged?!"

"That would be what the Council wishes me to do. But, there is an alternative. You renounce your title and affiliation with the Order, leave this place, and never return." he took out a parchment and pre-dipped goose feather. "All you'd have to do is sign this, I'll stamp it, and you'd be officially out."

Percival took the quill. "Like when you get a leave of absence?"

The Brother Superior churred softly. "Yes, I suppose it is like that. But more of a... forced absence." He nodded to the parchment.

Percival swallowed, and began to write:

 _I, Brother Percival of the Glauxian Brothers, have found it in my best interest to leave the Order. This is entirely my choice, and my decision alone. I now renounce my title, affiliation with the Brotherhood, and friendships I have here. I solemnly swear to leave the Retreat, returning to the World, never to return._

 _\- Broren Percival_

Amadeus picked it up and read it. "Good. I'll just stamp this. The Barn Owl turned, opening a drawer, and took a little thin block with a handle. He then dipped it in a square bottle of red ink. He stamped it onto the parchment. Rolling it up, he tied a silk bow around it.

"I'll be showing this to the Council next week. Now, I want you gone by twilight. Leave right when Hymnal Hour is to begin. Be right there at the end of the line. The others will have their heads down, facing Glaux's Path, beginning the first chorus, you can act just like them, but slip away right when they enter the Hall of Honor. Leave right through the Seventh Entrance Hall. Now go!"

Percival flew, in the loosest sense of the word, out of the Brother Superior's hollow. Swiftly grabbing his things and putting them into a purse, he slung the bag around his shoulder, throwing his habit over it. A Horned Owl entered the hollow.

"Brother Percival, it is time to follow Glaux's Path. Come with us." he said.

Percival threw his hood up. "Of course. I shall walk in the back of the line this evening, as I have many things to contemplate and confess to."

The other owl nodded politely. "When you are ready, follow the rest of us."

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The Brothers started singing an old favorite of the Brother Superior's, "To Glaux We Trust and Him We Serve". Percival found that "Children of the Night" was far superior, but when one is trying to escape from their duty of being a Glauxian Brother, beggars can't be choosers. They were into the third verse when Percival made his move. Waiting for the rest to disappear down the hall, he made a sharp turn right, exiting the hall, and lighting down in the Entrance Hollow. The echoes of his once fellow Brothers told him they were getting back to the Chorus.

Turning back and bowing to the Golden Statue of Glaux one last time, he lifted off from the hollow floor and into the night skies.


	6. Ch Five: A Visitor, Unwanted and Feared

In the large canyons of St. Aggie's, a lone Barn Owl flew in. He was a regular around the area, and was feared by almost everyone in the Union. Guards looked away from his face as he passed, others dared not look even at his back, and everything went dead silent until he past. The only one who didn't fear him was the one he came to see. Nyra.

A young Masked Owl swiveled his head to look away from his hideous features. Three long scars from long ago were raked upon his face. They were red, crusty, and vile. No one knew his true name, and he himself had forgotten it. Everyone called him Nazaar, which meant "eyes that watch". This was because of his one right eye that glowed red at dusk and at dawn. That eye was always half-closed now, and often leaked.

Nazaar grabbed the young soldier roughly by the face, pulling it to look at him. The Masked Owl was evidently horrified and disgusted, and Nazaar liked it that way. The Barn Owl flung the soldier away from him. He cackled to himself. _They fear me! I could open my wings to stretch, and they'd huddle in fear!_

A Greater Sooty Owl approached him. "My liege, General M-mam wishes to speak with you."

Nazaar breathed deeply. His voice was thin and reedy, yet all the more menacing.

"Very well, then, soldier. Lead me to her."

As the Sooty Owl led Nazaar up to a cave where Nyra was nesting, the Barn Owl struck up a conversation with his guide.

"Have any family, soldier?"

The Sooty Owl dove down, and Nazaar followed before receiving his answer.

"I joined with my son, Dustytuft. My mate died before I joined. I did it so he could have a future as a soldier."

Nazaar chuckled to himself. "Dustytuft? You named your son Dustytuft?!"

"I named him Philip, but we're not supposed to call him that. According to our records, he's Dustytuft, and I'm Sootfeather. I wish we could keep our real names, but I guess that's how they work."

"What was your real name? Do all them other owls have different names too?"

Sootfeather turned left. "It was Arthur. And no, its just us Sooties. We're not good enough to keep our names."

Nazaar saw a squadron of young owls being led by a Masked Owl. "Yours in that 'un?"

"No, Philip doesn't take his training sessions until later."

Nazaar noticed a large cave with two Pure Ones banners being waved by it.

"There it is." Sootfeather said, and the two began their spiraled descent towards the provided landing target.

"Nazaar! Good to be doing business with you again!" Nyra called.

The old Barn Owl looked at her. "You've grown so much since I last saw ye! I heard ye lost the Sacred Orb. Terribly sorry. And Kludd too! I was only at your Joining Ceremony, but from what I heard, it was terrible, how he died. You know that I would've helped if'n I had known-" Nyra interrupted him. Arthur flew off.

"I know you would have, Nazaar. I know. Which is why I've summoned you here this night, to ask you to do something for me. I have good news, and that is that I have just laid a new egg, and my sources tell me its a male. I would've preferred a girl, but since the loss of little Purity, I don't know if I could. And since Kludd cannot be a father figure to him, I want you to teach him the certain things I cannot. Fighting, battle tactics, and whatnot I and his superiors can handle. But what we cannot are those sacred arts of blacksmithing and colliering. If you can teach him those two things, then the rewards will be great. Anything less than the best will result in severe consequences. Understood?"

Nazaar cackled once more. "You're just like your mother. High or low, there is no middle ground. Of course I can do it."

Nyra smiled one of those rare smiles seldom seen since her time with Kludd. "Good. Very good."


End file.
